


No Horns on the Helmet

by PoolWatcher



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU of an AU, F/M, Female Gabriel, Gabe is a Teacher AU, What Would Gabe Teach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoolWatcher/pseuds/PoolWatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam knew being the more active of Ben's guardians would come back to bite him in the ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Horns on the Helmet

**Author's Note:**

> An AU of an AU I'm working on, where Gabriel is a 2nd Grade teacher. I'm also playing on the Scandinavian aspect more in that piece, but less so here. And this is kinda based on my own experiences teaching.

Gabrielle Shurley was, Sam knew, insanely attractive. He’d met and dated his fair share of attractive women in his 26 years, and yet somehow Gabrielle made the memory of those other women fade and dim. She was bright, vibrant, and quite possibly the bane of Sam’s existence.

“Ms. Shurley?” he called out tentatively as he entered the room, arms laden with shopping bags.

“In the back, Sam,” she replied with a laugh. “And I’ve told you, it’s Gabrielle when the kids aren’t around, Mr. Winchester.” Sam grinned a little sheepishly and quickly crossed to the back of the classroom where Gabrielle was busy clearing off counter space. He carefully set his bags on the cleared space and started unloading them while surreptitiously glancing at Gabrielle’s outfit.

“Have you been wearing that all day?” he asked with a touch of incredulity. Gabrielle grinned at him and twirled so that he could see the whole outfit.

“Of course! It’s been a good influence on Claire and the other girls.” Sam sighed with a smile.

“You _would_ use that excuse to dress up as a historically accurate lady viking warrior.” Gabrielle’s answering laugh told him he’d hit the nail on the head. To be fair, it _was_ a historically accurate outfit. There weren’t even any horns on the helmet, and the armor was far more practical than Sam had ever seen in any video game or movie depicting vikings.

“Can’t help that it’s the truth, Sasquatch.” They fell into a companionable silence as they unpacked and set out a variety of treats on pumpkin-shaped plates and platters. Gabrielle let out a sigh that was just this shy of being obscene. “This is my favorite holiday.

Sam smirked at her as he set out orange-frosted cupcakes with plastic bats and spiders set in them. “Of course it is. You know your notorious sweet tooth is already infamous with the parents, right?”

Gabrielle turned exaggeratedly wide eyes on him, her hand on her chest. “Is Ben spreading stories about me? Why that rascal!” She held her scandalized expression for all of three seconds before both adults burst into laughter.

“Speaking of my rascally nephew,” Sam said a few minutes later, when they’d calmed down, “where are the kids?”

“P.E. I’m hoping they get some of that energy out before the party,” she said with an eye-roll. “It’s been more than a bit chaotic in here today.”

“Is that why I got that frantic text from you for the emergency pumpkin spice latte?” Sam asked with a smirk, pulling the nearly-forgotten coffee cup from a cup carrier hidden inside the last bag. Gabrielle latched onto the proffered cup and took a long pull, and Sam tried his hardest not to stare at the look of pure bliss on her face.

“Got it in one, Sammy,” Gabrielle eventually replied, once the coffee was nearly half-gone. “And that is why you are the best Room Mom ever.” Sam flushed and spluttered, and Gabrielle laughed, and that was about the time the kids came back; all of them were decked out in Halloween costumes, and it only took a glare from Gabrielle to send them all to their seats while Sam took a minute to compose himself and prepare for the controlled chaos of a Second Grade Halloween Party.


End file.
